Where My Path Leads
by celticvampriss
Summary: "Of all the random twists and turns, the distance of time and even worlds, this is where they were always meant to be." A Captain Swan fic. Involves my theory on events in Manhattan. Going to be short. M for language and eventual mature content. Hopefully a good time filler until the episode airs.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This...I don't even know what this is. I had set out to write a simple scene and all this stuff started happening. Please be kind. I just don't even know anymore. I am still going to finish "Screw Destiny" for anyone interested in that. I really will. But I just had to write this. Right now it is "M" for language. Eventually for mature content. So that's a warning. And it's not going to be long. Maybe four chapters total. Hope you like it. Thanks for reading.**

**Part One**

That they should end up there, together, like this, after everything that happened was no accident. It had not been planned either, but it was getting harder to believe that either of them were dealt lives of random chance and coincidence. Reason and fate were shouting and plugging their ears like stubborn children wasn't working any more.

The hallway was empty now, just two people standing outside a door. On the other side of that door was a very tried child hopefully not reliving the last few hours in his dreams. Emma had been such a rock, too. Through all of it. Strong and sturdy and she had not let anything chip at the resolve. Not until that door clicked into place and she knew that Henry was safely shielded behind it. Then the trembling started.

She backed into a wall and held the back of her hand to her mouth to hide the tremor in her lips. Careful breaths. Steady breaths. Deep inhales. But as much as her body wanted to shake with sobs she could not conjure tears. And he had the grace to avert his eyes. Still clad in leather and buckles he was not exactly inconspicuous, but he shuffled in place and tried to let her ride out the waves and get some control back. There was no malice in his eyes, no flirtation or joviality rimmed in dark lines. The one thing he did not do just then, was leave her.

"Oh God…" Emma let out a laugh and grabbed her knees. "Fucking shaking right now." She said again, drawing humor to the situation as she tried to laugh. And nothing was funny.

Hook set his eyes on her again, knowing full bloody well that she was still trying to keep a brave face. "Here." He held out a small flask, his tone droll and serious.

"What's that?" Emma asked as she took it and then she gulped down a mouthful without waiting for an answer. When the fierce drink hit her throat she hissed a bit on the intensity, but then went back for another smaller sip. "Tastes like shit."

"Yes, well, it's not meant to taste good. It's meant to feel good." He reasoned before taking his own sip and then pocketing the flask. She was able to stand up straight again, her hands still shaking, but the rest of her body was lax.

"Thanks." She nodded and then sighed. "Look, you don't have to stay here."

Hook eyed her, not moving. There was no question of his leaving. "No. I don't have to stay."

Emma's eyes locked with his at the comment before falling away, almost timidly. "Right." She tucked some hair behind her ear.

They were silent for a spell. It seemed, or felt, to both of them that there was just nowhere to go. They were in the middle of a foreign city. Mostly alone. For Hook, it was the loudest place he had ever been. The noise was constant and unrestrained. He doubted he'd have been able to sleep if he had wanted. In the silence that spread he contemplated his journey. What had started as a search for revenge had taken a different course all together. The spell had led him toward his Crocodile, sure enough, but he had not spotted Rumplestiltskin first. He had spotted Emma running down the streets of this Manhattan after some figure in a hood.

He couldn't have caught up if he tried. Not in a place where the very ground seemed to move at a breakneck pace. Instead, he had kept that blonde hair in his sights while he stalked them knowing that where he found Emma, he would eventually find his target. There had been no small amount of admiration watching her hurdle up-turned metal bins and weave through a crowd that spread thick as trees in a forest in every direction. Emma had caught her victim in the end and had sent them both tumbling to the ground. Hook had not been far behind. Then Emma began to rise and all he could see was the back of her head as she looked at the hooded stranger. He moved until he was close enough to hear over the noise of the city.

"No." Emma began to shake her head and then her voice grew fierce. "You."

"Emma…" The stranger was on his hands and knees, his eyes laced with recognition and the most obvious, guilt. It wasn't even a leap to perceive the connection there. This man was directly linked to Emma's past and not in a good way. Hook considered the idea of him being the 'once love' that had broken her. The boy's father?

"_You_." Emma spat the word like it was vile.

"What're you doing here?" The man began to get to his feet, his eyes darting. The look of a man used to hiding and running. Shifty.

"What am I doing here? _What_ am _I_ doing here?" Emma snapped. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"No, Emma, you don't understand…you're just…who's with you? Were you…sent or—?" The man was on his feet, hand out in surrender. Or to keep Emma at bay should she attack. From Hook's position, the woman was ready to spring at the slightest provocation.

"Oh my God, you're Gold's son." Emma was pointing, her voice losing some of its bite. "You're him. You're his son."

"What?"

"Gold. Mr. Gold. Rumplestiltskin. You're his son?" Emma snapped fiercely.

The man had the audacity to try and smile, but he shook off the comment. "Who? Emma, I think you're—"

"Just answer the question, Neal." Her voice was lower, quiet. And it was infinitely more dangerous.

Neal, as the hooded man was called, began to laugh nervously. "I…no. No. I don't know who this Gold is, all right? How would I? Look, I think we need to just…why don't you tell me who you're with?"

"I'm not answering anything until you tell me the truth. Are you Gold's son?"

Neal paused and considered his options before opting to dodge the question again. Which was the wrong option. "Look. I really think we need to get some clarification. I'm really, I just need to know, to understand—"

Emma was in his face in seconds. The movement so fluid and poised that had Hook blinked he would have missed it. "Are you Gold's son?"

"Emma…I—"

"Answer the fucking question." She shouted at him. Screamed into his face and her hand came up, but then it stopped. "Answer the question."

"I…yeah. Yes. I'm—"

"Oh my God." Emma shook her head and turned on a booted heel.

"Wait. Emma, hold on a second."

"Don't touch me." She jerked her arm from his grasp like his touch caused her pain. "You don't get to touch me. You got that? Not ever. Not even a little. And I swear if you do it again I will level you."

Neal held up his hands. "Okay. Okay, fair enough. I deserve that. I do."

"You bet you deserve it. You deserve a whole lot more, so don't tempt me cause I am so not going to be holding back."

"All right. Emma. I understand you're angry, but I can explain—"

She laughed, darkly and bitterly. "Oh dear God, you're really going to try that? Like I really want to hear an explanation? Like you can possibly have one good enough to justify…everything." She had started walking purposefully now. Hook guessed it was back to wherever she had come from and he was thankful that her ire had clouded her powers of observation or she might have noticed him.

"I know. You're right. You're completely right. There's no excuse. But can…can I just…can you please just stop for two seconds?"

Emma stopped and gave him a level stare.

Neal halted with her, startled that she actually listened. "Thank you. I—"

"Two." Emma took off again, letting him follow her. Neal sighed and then fought to keep pace with her.

"Fine. I'm just going to say it. You can listen or you don't. But I'm going to tell you." He dodged a passer-by and then hopped back to her side. "Okay. There was this guy."

"Must have been one hell of a guy." She responded in a droll monotone. Hook broke into a grin despite himself. Emma would always bite back and he would be lying if he claimed he wasn't endeared to her gumption.

Neal ignored the comment. "This guy knew about the curse."

Emma halted. "The curse?"

"Yeah. Said a bunch of stuff about you being the savoir and that being with you was…that you had a destiny and I was keeping you from that." Neal swallowed. "Look, I'm not proud of what happened. I regret it…I regret it every single day. But you know, you had this great destiny and I knew I wasn't a part of that. I'm no savoir, Emma. I always thought you were better than me. A better person. Deserved so much more than anything I could give you. I thought…I figured this was a chance for you to have that. To have all that good stuff."

Emma remained silent, letting the idiot ramble. When it seemed he was done she laughed dryly. "Don't give me that bull shit."

"What? It's all the truth. Every line. I mean it."

"No, I know you think you mean it. But it's not going to change anything, so stop trying to flatter me. Don't go playing the 'I wasn't good enough card'. Cause you tried that, remember? You tried and I told you flat out that it didn't matter. So whatever you did don't you dare sit here and tell me it was because you thought I was better than you."

Neal's eyes flickered and Hook saw all timidity in the man. There was no fight in him.

"As for what I deserved, I deserved to have you stick around. I don't care what bull shit that…whoever fed you, but I know that if he had come to _me_?" She paused as she made sure to make eye contact, as much as Neal fought to avoid it. "There is nothing he could have said that would have made me leave you without a word."

"You don't know what happened. Who I am. Really am. I—"

"I know who you are, Neal. I know exactly who you are. You're the son of a coward and you've turned out just like him." She started walking again and Neal followed.

"I was. I am…" Neal shook his head. "For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Emma. I never meant…hurting you was the last thing I would ever want—"

"Yeah, well, it happened. Cause you did. You hurt me. And it's the last time, buddy. Cause I'm never giving you the chance again." Emma finally stopped walking, her shoulders tense. Neal stopped with her, looking at the ground.

"You're bringing me to him." He said, hesitant, but he wasn't running any more.

Emma didn't answer. She considered her words very carefully and then seemed to decide something. Her eyes focused on Neal. "Listen up. Here's how this is going to go down. I'm going to drop you off to Gold. Fulfill my part of the deal. Once you're there my job ends and I don't care what you do or that I ever see you again."

Neal nodded. "'Kay. I understand." He sounded wounded, but no one listening really cared.

"When we get there…there's gonna be a boy with him. You are not to speak to him. You are not to look at him. You are just going to go with Gold and that's the end of this story. You got that?" Emma seemed scared now. Worried. If not by the look of determined resolution on her face, Hook could sense as he watched her fingers play with the edges of her pockets.

"Got it."

Emma nodded. "Good. Okay."

They rounded a final corner and Hook's eyes left Emma for the first time since finding her. Gold.

"You did it, mom!" Henry ran toward her, unaware of the gravity of the situation. "I said you would."

Neal stopped in his tracks. "Mom?"

"Yeah. Let's get going, Henry." Emma pulled her son into her side and walked next to Gold. "It's done. I got him. Now I'm taking my son and leaving."

Gold didn't speak. He didn't even acknowledge her. Emma almost didn't stop to care. She started walking again, pulling Henry with her before he got her to stop.

"I wanna watch. We came all this way…" Henry protested, looking over his shoulder. Emma tried to keep the kid's focus on her, but failed.

"Can you just trust me, Henry? We've got to go."

Gold had stepped forward and Neal was caught wanting to run from his father and run toward Emma. So he stood there.

"Baelfire?" Tears glistened on the Crocodile's eyes and that name halted Hook instantly.

Thinking of him as Neal or as simply 'Gold's son' had been one thing. But the name Baelfire…hearing it spoken and seeing the man that he had once seen as a child, it made him hesitate. How many times had Hook heard that name called into the darkness and nightmares as regret tormented Milah's dreams? How often had she spoken of the name fondly in memories or stories?

But this was _for_ Milah. The swell of vengeance and his warped heart made him consider striking out at the boy, man. At Neal. One final blow to the Crocodile's heart before Hook ended him for good. It would be the last thing Rumplestiltskin saw. A knife in the back of his beloved son's neck right before Hook used it to pierce his rotting heart. And Hook's smile was vile and his eyes were venomous. And he ached at the gratification of terror and complete horror in the Crocodile's eyes before the end.

What stayed his hand was Henry. Henry running back into the thick of things as Gold began to talk at Neal.

"Henry get back here." Emma ran after him, catching Henry by the arm before they got closer.

"It's him. I can tell." Henry struggled. "I can see it. Let me go. Mom, he's here. He's here."

"Henry you're wrong." Emma held him as Henry fought to get to Neal.

"No. No, I'm not. I'm right. And you know it. Please. I have to see him. I have to know." He broke free as Emma slackened her grip. She was on her knees from holding him and she pivoted, defeated.

Henry stood next to Gold, looking up at Neal with the wide smile of a boy who had just found his father. "Dad."

Neal stared at Henry for a long while. Not moving. No one moved.

Finally, Neal looked to Emma and she closed her eyes as she nodded slowly.

"See. I knew it."

"Okay, Henry." Emma stood near her son. "You've seen him."

"But. But I have so many questions and I—"

"We'll get to that, kid." She was staring down Neal while she spoke. "I promise. I'll answer anything you want to know, but this is Mr. Gold's moment. Let's get going." Henry allowed himself to be lead by his mother and that is when Hook was moving.

Eyes on Emma, Hook moved with a passing crowd and left Gold and Neal behind. It was a sudden decision. One he hadn't quite made before he was acting on it. It wasn't the right time. He needed to wait for the dagger like planned. Baelfire changed things. The rationalizations piled on his shoulders as he sought Emma. He felt guilty. He had let an opportunity pass. Even if he knew that he would never have harmed Milah's son for his vengeance. Even if the real reason he was running right now was to catch up to Emma. Because Emma was going to need him. Because…because…because fucking Rumplestiltskin could wait.

"Swan." Hook caught up to them, now a few blocks from where they had left Gold. She rounded, attack mode.

"Hook."

"Surprised to see me?" He grinned.

"I…yeah. What're you doing here?" She held onto Henry. "Gold. Obviously."

Hook adopted a casual nonchalance. "Yeah, I've other plans for my Crocodile. Now's not my moment."

"Then what're you doing here?"

He swallowed and bit at his tongue. "I might be over stepping my bounds, but you look like you could use the company."

Emma opened her mouth then shut it. "Thanks, but I really don't."

Hook shrugged. "Then I'll just have to follow you."

"I'm so not in the mood for this." Emma groaned, pressing a hand to her temple.

"My point, exactly, love. You may be doing a fine show for everyone else, but you are most definitely _not_ fine. At least let me see you to an inn or wherever it is people stay."

"That's Hook, isn't it?" Henry was staring at the pirate with a hint of awe in his eyes.

"Yeah, kid." Emma bent to Henry's level. "Listen. There's a lot I need to tell you. And…" Then she bent toward him so that Hook couldn't hear. "Is it cool if he comes? You say the word and he's gone."

"Nah. I think he's here to be nice. And that's never a bad thing." Henry observed. "Are _you_ cool with it?"

His mother opened her mouth and closed it. Damn kid and his insightful questions. "I really don't think he's going to let up." Emma said seriously.

Henry nodded. "Then we better just let him come. It'll be best for everyone."

"Kid speaks with a wisdom beyond his years." Hook commented with a smirk. "Not surprising, but I would heed the lad's advice if I were you."

Emma stood up and glared. "We get one thing straight now. You watch what you say in front of my son and you get too annoying and I'm punching you and leaving you where you fall."

"You wound me." He stepped closer. "I've enough decency to hold my tongue in the presence of a child, or do you really think me so reprehensible?"

"Just come on and shut up." She groaned, turning again to guide Henry.

* * *

**A/N: So, I just wanted to kind of point out that I understand the meeting of these characters would probably be more explosive. I know I skipped over Gold and Neal's meeting. I know I didn't do it quite the justice it deserves, but this is a Captain Swan story that I wanted to focus on them and their interactions. I just needed to write out Emma's reactions to Neal so that I could get Hook and Emma where I want them to be later in the story. So. Please don't judge that part too harshly. I know it's no where near how intense that scene should be. But eh. If I really wanted to get into it, it'd take pages and so many hours of thought that I just wasn't having it for this story's purposes. Hope you enjoyed it any way. Thanks for reading. ^_^**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Holy crow. I'm sitting here and near four in the morning. This story just demanded to be written. And I'm so sorry, but it's a long one. Instead of breaking it up, I decided it would work better as a single chapter even if it is long. So please enjoy this. Mature content warning. So drained. Ah.**

**Part Two**

They reached the hotel in relative silence and the three stood at the door to the room before Emma turned to Hook again. "Give me a few minutes with him." She ushered Henry inside ahead of her and then followed him with a quick smile toward Hook.

No one quite knew when it was decided that he wouldn't be simply walking them to the hotel. But it seemed natural that he'd be staying. Emma just needed to talk to Henry without worrying about Hook's reactions.

When Henry had finally asked her every painful question on his mind and she had fumbled through answers, he had started to fall asleep. She wasn't sure exactly how he had taken it all, but he was quiet and she took that as a bad sign. She had held him close, reassuring him over and over that she loved him. That nothing was going to tear them apart. That they would get through this together and only together. Then, when Henry's breathing had become even and steady, Emma had slipped out and let the door shut lightly behind her before breaking down.

Now she was standing with Hook in the middle of a hotel hallway and the tingling of alcohol was just starting to really soothe her body. Emma looked sideways at Hook.

"You asked me once…if I had ever been in love." Emma stated.

This was not a conversation Hook thought she would be willing to have. His eyes were soft and wary. "Aye."

Letting out a little laugh she crossed her arms. "Probably not hard to guess who."

Hook was watching her, noting that she seemed to just talk. Not specifically to him, but because she had to say something. "I had my suspicions." He offered quietly. His main focus was her and that she was no longer in a fit of near hysterics.

"Yeah, but I doubt you guessed the best part." She said with a smile that was so forced it hurt him to watch. "He betrayed me. Set me up and let me take the heat for his crime. Left me before he knew about…" She looked toward the door and then continued. "He never knew. I was in prison when I had Henry. Prison. What a way to start out, huh? I mean, what kind of story is that? All I hear are these epic tales of…of bravery and true love and my parents running all over the woods finding each other and whatever. Then here I am giving this kid-_my_ kid that wants…_all_ he wants is to be in those fairy tales and what do I give him? The story of a kid who's mother had to give birth in jail and then gave him up." Emma wiped at her cheek, surprised to find it wet. She laughed again, but it was a choking laugh.

Hook listened and offered her a scrap of cloth for her eyes. "We must deal with the situations in which we find ourselves." He started and Emma looked up at him as she cleaned her eyes. "Every parent wants to give their children the ideal. But they are not always given the means. You can dwell on that fact forever. Blame yourself. But the fact is that you have never once acted against Henry's best interest. What more can he ask of you?"

"Of course he can ask more of me. He doesn't deserve a father like…like Neal. Look at me? I'm the product of quote 'true love.' And Henry deserved to have that. Not to be the product of some childish mistakes. I know I can't change what happened, but I don't think I can ever not hate myself for doing that to him."

Hook shook his head. "That is your mistake, love. You have no cause to think yourself unworthy of anyone. I see no reason for you to feel remorse. What I see? Is a mother who cares more for her child than her own happiness. And it might surprise you to learn that not every mother can say as much." His eyes narrowed bitterly and he turned his head, pausing. "Mistakes are the curse of all; you're no exception. Regret? If you do not carry the weight of some guilt or other then, in my humble opinion, you have not lived. But I beg of you, for my sanity, do not doubt yourself and your devotion to that boy."

Emma kept her mouth shut, hands in her back pockets as she toed the ground.

Heaving a sigh, Hook began to get uncomfortable. He looked up and then down the hallway before frowning. "Is there a common place to go for some water? Food?"

A hint of a smile ghosted on her lips as she pulled away from the wall. "This way, sailor." She walked toward the sign for ice machine and sure enough, there were a few vending machines. They both walked into the inlet and Emma motioned toward the vending machine with drinks in it.

"Take your pick." She said.

Hook looked it over and after deciding that none of it sounded edible pointed to the picture of the bottle labeled water. "That. Now who do I ask to serve me?"

Emma pulled a few singles from her pocket and held them in his face as she gave a few tugs on the edges. "Slide this in here." She fed two singles into the machine. "Then hit the button." She used a fist to pound on the giant picture and then Hook marveled at the sounds of whatever was happening before a bottle was dispensed. "Voila. Water." She bent down and gave the bottle a few shakes before holding it out to him.

"My thanks. I'd never have figured that one out on my own." He gave the machine a wary look before twisting the cap and taking a long drink. He offered some to Emma and she took it, needing to get some of the taste of rum out of her mouth.

"So." Emma shrugged her shoulder. "So, thanks."

Hook looked at her over the bottle at his lips, "For what, love?"

"You know. For…being _not_ an annoying prick. Just now."

He snorted. "Yes. How very humane of me. Would it surprise you to learn that I don't eat with my bare hands, either?"

Emma blinked, not expecting him to get offended. "I…no, I wasn't trying to suggest that you—"

"I know very well what you were suggesting." The bottle was empty and he threw it in a bin with other empty ones. "I understand how well I'm…_perceived_, Emma. But I like to think that not everything one discerns from my name and occupation is accurate." He sighed. "I don't claim to be a hero, but I know better than to taunt a suffering woman for the sport of it."

"I'm sorry. I…" She shook her head, looking at her boots. "Honestly. I didn't even think…I guess I didn't mean it that way, but if you read it like that I'm sorry."

"Yes. Well. What's done is done." His voice was low and Emma reached out to him, but retracted her hand. This hadn't gone unnoticed, Hook's eyes following the motion precisely.

"So why then?" She asked finally. They were standing near the vending machines. Out of view of the main hallway. She didn't know why she kept talking. Maybe it just felt good to talk. It was nice talking to him since…since in the past few minutes he had truly been making her feel better.

"Why what?" He inquired with a heavy breath. Maybe she was the one being pushy now, but she couldn't go to sleep yet. She wanted to hold on to this just a bit longer because it was a nice distraction. And she was curious.

"Why align yourself with Cora? Why…why make this horrible reputation for yourself if you didn't want people to see you that way?"

A smile graced his lips and he set his back against the wall, head back. "Are you asking for a story, love?"

Emma considered and then nodded. "Yeah. I guess I am. Your story. So come on. Spill."

"It's not a happy tale." He warned, crossing his arms.

Shrugging, Emma set her shoulder against the wall, leaning next to him. "Yeah, neither is mine. So come on. What happened?"

He looked into her eyes and it was glaringly obvious that she was stalling them. He didn't blame her. The prospect of leaving and calling it a night wasn't very appealing. Hook turned so that their bodies were facing each other from their leaning positions along the wall. "Why so interested, may I ask?"

"I dunno. Nothing better to do."

He eyed her, considering, and then he pointed lightly to her. "No. No, I think I will save my tragic story for another time."

"What? Why?" She protested.

The smirk was back and Emma bit back her eagerness. "Because I'm not about to waste what is clearly a subject of great interest to you on 'nothing better to do.'" He lowered his eyes, still looking at her. "When you want to know because you can't stand not knowing, when the mystery of it proves too much, then I _might_ consider sharing."

Her jaw locked and she feigned indifference. "Fine. Whatever. Be a baby."

He chuckled. "Childish am I? Very well. I'll allow that slight against me to pass, but only because you're a terrible actor."

"What's that supposed to mea—?"

"Open book." He said and Emma thought that there must have been an undercurrent in his voice because she shivered. He really was standing quite close to her and she was starting to notice, which was never a good sign. That moment when you become physically aware of someone. Those moments never lead to decent things. She debated on fleeing. How late was it?

"I make you uncomfortable." He stated. It was a point of fact not a question. Emma looked like she was going to deny it, but then she held her tongue. Thinking she would only incriminate herself further, since he liked to talk in circles.

And maybe it was all him, but she couldn't say it wasn't partly her but…the distance between them had been shrinking slowly. Barely. Almost imperceptibly, except that now her boots were touching his. It was quiet but for the sound of shallow breathing and the hum of the vending machines. If space could be tangible, if empty air could be felt and touched then Emma could swear that it was pressing into her, constricting around her. But for all the building and the expectation and the leaning, nothing was happening. And their moment hung between them, spaced and distant and almost intimate.

Emma was on a track and everything was smooth and natural. She had moved and leaned because that is where she was going. Her body was gliding on a path she had no conscious thought over. As if she couldn't possibly be anywhere other than right there, at that moment. The course had all ready been set, tracks laid, path marked and she let it take her where it wanted to go.

Hook had to stop because what was happening? This was a betrayal. To him. To Milah. To all he had come to identify as his. Because a kiss? That could mean nothing. But it could mean everything. A kiss was not the problem. He was Captain Hook. A kiss, a body, a willing soul, none of that was ever off the table. Chastity was not a trait he could easily commit too. But when lust turned into meaning _that_ is when he feared. This woman in front of him. She was beautiful. But then she was feisty and strong. Noble. So very broken. And the list grew and it was for Emma as a whole that he began to fear. A kiss might mean nothing. But he wasn't fool enough to believe that one shared with Emma Swan would be anything less than profound.

Time hung between them. There were reasons why they shouldn't. Plenty to make each of them turn around and walk away.

But who would they be kidding? Any chance of leaving had been squandered long ago.

She lifted her head.

He licked his lips.

And they followed the course that had been set. Of all the random twists and turn, the distance of time and even worlds, this is where they were always meant to be. Or that is how it felt. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to be kissing Emma. Slow and soft, testing. The feel of it, the gentle pressure, it was a scene of serenity. Fairy tale. A picture. Chaste and simple because they were testing the feel of it because they both had their reservations.

A kiss might mean nothing.

But not this one.

Then the spell broke. The carefully sensual pressure of lips together for seconds or minute. The breathing as one. The feathered contact of two souls pouring into one innocent gesture. Yeah, all that had been nice, but it sure as hell wasn't enough.

That is when a kiss turned into a frenzy. Emma's head was forced backward as he fought for an angle that allowed him the most access to her mouth. Feeling Emma was exhilarating, but he wanted to taste her. Sweet and acidic, the remnants of rum lingering on her tongue. Her fingers curled into his collar pulling him to her, assenting to further exploration. There was nothing quiet or innocent between them now. They were loud. Demanding. Torn between breath and the distinct pleasure of consuming the other.

Emma's hands held firm on his collar as she pushed into the kiss, reaching and craning for more. His left arm circled her waist and eased her forward, hips aligned. The other held the back of her head entwined in strands of gold and silk. It was this hand that saved the back of her head from smashing into the dry wall. His ring had most assuredly taken a few chips out of the paint and possibly dented the plaster with the force of crashing against it. And with her firmly planted along the wall they began to work her higher. Emma by latching a leg around his waist. Hook by holding firmly to her hips and lifting.

Moans eased up Emma's throat as her feet left the ground and their kiss broke. Now she had an excuse to ram her fingers through his hair, holding it for stability and gently scratching. But her nails turned to claws when, having been denied access to her mouth, Hook had begun to overwhelm her neck. Each breath Emma fought to control grew more and more ragged as he moved down, tugging the edges of her jacket open.

The passion of it had them gasping and blinded like teenagers making-out behind the bleachers. Emma began to come into her senses finally, still latched to him with legs and arms. It was the movement of his hand at the hem of her shirt and the gradual sensations of fingers edging their way up her stomach that had her calling time-out.

"Wait. Wait." Even to her the words were barely comprehensible. Lust laced each attempt at communicating, darkening and drawing out the words until they sounded more like, "Wa…Wai…"

The message, however, was still received. Hook pulled back, drinking in the smell of her with each inhale.

Emma looked down, swallowing and finding her words strengthening now that his teeth weren't doing terrible things to what he could reach of her chest. "Not…"

He nodded, understanding immediately. Eyes dark and lidded, he had her sliding down the length of him until her feet were once again on the ground, their foreheads now pressed together. "Too public?" He said with a smile, but the words were low and she could feel them as he spoke, their bodies still too close for decency. God, even his stupid banter was exhilarating.

"Just a bit." She agreed. Then she licked her lips, thinking. "I only had the one room." She chewed on her lip, knowing that the one room she had also had Henry and that was not happening. Then a thought occurred to her and it was really the only option besides saying goodnight and heading to bed more frustrated than she'd ever been in her life. So there was no time to consider all the negative parts of the plan. There was act or do nothing. "I think I got an idea." Grabbing the lapel of his jacket she had him spinning in place as she marched into the hallway.

"While I applaud the enthusiasm, there's really no need to drag me behind you." However, the angle that she walked held a very nice view and he decided not to raise any more arguments. Who was he to squelch her zeal? Emma fished in her pockets and pulled out a small card, sliding it into the door and throwing him into the room before following.

As she leaned into the door to keep it from slamming she had brief spell of hesitation wash over her. This was Gold's room. The one he had gotten in case finding his son had taken longer than planned. It was connected to Emma's room through a locked door, so she was close enough to be there for Henry, but not too close. As for Gold returning unexpectedly? That was a problem…Emma chewed the edge of her thumb as it occurred to her that this was a really stupid idea.

"Something wrong, love?"

To fucking hell with it. Emma slid the top lock into place, making it harder for Gold to just walk in should he return with his room key. Not exactly lockdown, but it'll hold.

Emma turned in place and he was standing in front of her, waiting for her. Full on pirate leather and jacket with more buttons than any garment had a right to. And maybe it was just her all ready revved up adrenaline, but it had the effect of melting…all of her melting and there were things passing through her mind that were probably off-limits…for now. And it was also a shame that she simultaneously wanted him out of those clothes.

Hook had the distinct pleasure of observing a very tousled, passion disordered Emma. His eyes swept over her as a painter admiring his work. The look she was giving him now held a predatory note in her otherwise lust-glazed green eyes.

His eyes tracked the sway of her hips and the rotating of her shoulders as she twisted out of her jacket and began to stalk toward him. Eventually close enough that he had to crane his head to keep eye contact, Emma stopped.

"Can I ask you something?" She spoke quietly, eyes dropping to study the intricacies of his vest and he felt the light tracing of her finger over the inlaid patterns. She didn't wait for a response before adding, "Why did you follow me?"

"Which time?" He replied with a grin.

"Now. Just when…I can only assume you were watching what happened. Gold was right there. Why did you follow me?"

His grin fell, his lips a hard line. "I told you. My business with the Crocodile goes back countless years. I'll pick my moment carefully and purposefully. Today was not the day." His words were bitterer than he intended, forced through his clenched teeth.

Emma shook her head. "No. I'm not buying it."

"And why should it matter? Whatever my reasons, and I'll remind you that they are mine, it is no concern of yours."

Her fingers brushed the edge of his vest, teasingly close to bare skin. "Yeah, but you see, I'm making it my business. If I remember, you were the one vying for trust between us. Well, here's your chance." She leaned up, nose brushing over his lips as she straightened her head to see into his eyes. "Try something different, love. It's called trust."

Anger bubbled in the pit of his stomach and it would have completely overpowered him, if he hadn't been so damned turned on. She was walking a very thin line. Bringing up a rather delicate subject. Forcing said subject. Then using his own line against him. All the while her thin fingers doing intimate dances along his collar, up his neck, down his shirt. The backfire of his own words had been enough to give him both an irate sense of irony and thrilling rise in blood pressure. She was maddeningly alluring.

And her intent had also backfired. Instead of fueling him to respond to her ridiculous questions, he had captured her mouth in a fierce war of power and dominance. Shit, but she felt so incredibly good. Just pure and simple pleasure writhing in his arms and then Emma was pushing him backward his knees caught the bed and he fell and she stood in front of him, wiping at her swollen lips with the back of her hand.

Whenever their little tryst had begun to verge on violence, neither could really say. Emma was angry. Hook was angry. And it felt so gratifying to share. To not be consumed in a drowning sense of rage and jaded bitterness alone. The two broken souls of a pirate and a lost princess finding a way to mend each other, even it was only a quick seal over a few cracks, it was a start.

Emma had him out of the jacket in the next instant, thighs squeezing his legs as she mounted. Then she took his head in both hands and kissed without mercy. And every show of dominance was dissolving him to her will, almost. There was only so much torment he could stand before he had spun her beneath him, not once breaking the kiss or her legs' hold on his waist.

Her teeth serrated into his bottom lip and he jerked backward, licking at the quick beading of blood.

From her pinned position, she watched his tongue sooth the injury and she used that to assert herself. "I can tell when you're lying. And I'm not letting you get out of this. Like it or not, I'm going to get the answer I want. You can save yourself a lot of injury if you just tell me."

His fingers tested the tender cut on his lip, coming away with a trace of blood. He chuckled darkly. Did Emma realize that she was the one currently pinned? Or that her threats were more of a turn on than a fear inducing demand? "But didn't I mention?" He took one of her wrists in his hand while he quickly pinned the other between their legs. His face hovered over her, dangerously close. "I love a woman with _bite_."

Emma wriggled her arms, but his hold didn't budge.

"Maybe _I'll_ think of some questions to bait you with, shall I?" He dipped his head, running his nose and lips carefully over her cheeks. "Tell me Emma, why is it that when I touch…here," His teeth caught the skin in the crook of her neck, "You make such lovely noises?"

Her eyes had fallen closed, her will slipping.

"Another question, if I may…" His knee, the one not securing her arm to her side, slid up her thighs. Emma's breath caught in her throat. Hook's grin was smug and oh so devious.

She squirmed a bit, but she had no room to move. Every muscle she shifted was hindered by Hook.

"Here's my question to you, Emma," If his knee wasn't driving her mad then the teasing breath over her shirt collar would. "Where are those cuffs when you need them?"

Emma smiled despite her position. If she didn't do something soon she'd forget that she even cared. Every second was turning her into a pool of nerves for him to manipulate and Emma Swan did not care for manipulation. Or maybe she could in this instance, but that wasn't the plan.

Mindful of his wandering head she craned for a vantage point and her mouth found his ear, catching it lightly in her teeth. Any movement by the pirate halted instantly. In that second of hesitation Emma wiggled her arms free and brought them rolling once again until she was on top.

Her fingers worked quickly on the vest, sending it flying into some corner of the room that she couldn't be bothered about. Then the undershirt. Now she had a full track of skin to claw should she have to. And what the hell, it was a nice view.

"If you're so set on not responding, then answer me this, why the secrecy?" She began to slip off her boots, still holding him beneath her, though he wasn't really fighting it.

Distracted by the feel of her hips gliding up and sideways and down as she worked off the boots, he honestly hadn't been listening to her.

"Hey?" She snapped, flicking off the second boot and then straightening.

"Still with the questions?" He groaned. "Your persistence is bordering on obstinate." His eyes were focused solely on the zero space between their legs. He had never hated this world's fashion for women in trousers more.

"It's important." She insisted and bent down until her face was in his line of sight. "I'm not going to beg. But I really need to know."

His right hand fell over his face. "There were many factors influencing my decision. One of them being what I had already explained to you three times now."

She drew circles with her finger, coaxing the rest out of him. "And?"

"And…and…" His face was still covered by his arm and each breath began to catch in his throat as she moved a few careful fingers. Did she realize that she was keeping him from thinking of an answer? Of course she knew. Finally he caught her wrist. "And there was somewhere I needed to be."

Emma blinked, the answer she had thought…she hadn't wanted to consider what drove him to walk away from the perfect opportunity to take his enemy. Neal's return had dragged it out of her and it was abandonment and betrayal all over again. She wanted, no needed, to know if she was right about Hook. Because if she was…if Emma was right then it meant that Hook had chosen her over his vengeance. Even if only for the night. And the all consuming necessity of it nearly made her sick.

She didn't press him. He didn't need her to. Glancing down at Emma perched on his chest, her chin on her hand, he bit at his tongue. "Nothing has gone quite as expected since meeting you." He admitted. "But my reason, my main reason, the driving reason, for me following you was simply that it looked like you might need me-someone. If I'm being honest, it hadn't even been a decision. You ran off with Henry and I was following without a thought. It seems that I've come to find you more promising than revenge. Congratulations, Swan." He didn't sound too thrilled with the idea. In fact, a part of her started to feel guilty at the obvious turmoil this was causing him.

Hook began to smile darkly, chuckling with humorless laughter. He looked ready to be sick when Emma kissed him lightly. He remained slack beneath her, but his lips followed her lead without hesitation. She brought a hand up his cheek, fingers light on his skin. "Thank you." She spoke into the kiss and with the soft gesture he brought his hand up her sides, the edges of her shirt catching in his fingers. He lifted it over her head one-handed and drew his fingers over a piece of clothing he wasn't quite familiar with, but was easily removed.

If there was anything that could distract him from the raging war in his head it was the feel of her pressing against him, clothing discarded. With each kiss they worked at the rest of the clothes. Dusk was breaking outside and the glow in the room made seeing just possible. Passion began to replace the anger in each of them and Emma had to cover her mouth when she remembered that Henry was just a room away.

While Hook may have only had one good hand, it turned out that could be more than enough. His fingers had wormed their way up her thighs until she began to squirm at his coaxing. She leaned backward, hair spilling behind her and head lolling on her shoulders. He sat up with her, keeping their position intact as he snaked an arm around her back and set about tormenting her with kisses and licks and general devouring of her chest.

Her hands raked up his back and through his already tousled hair, pulling and clawing. And it was driving her into madness before he turned them so that Emma was now under him again. The wind was knocked out of her and she may have wanted to savor and cherish the moment longer, make a real show if it, but fuck, it had all ready been too long since she'd had any sort of willing partner. Her head thrashed and she was about to scream commands, but he was already complying.

Any notion that he _wasn't_ reading her like the open book she apparently was had been retracted. Every satisfying, slow building, rhythm matched every unspoken shout or plea. Emma let the motion sweep over her senses, dulling everything but the now. The headboard beat the wall in tempo. Sweat began to glisten over her and control shifted sides at least two more times. There wasn't a single space on the queen sized mattress that hadn't been used. Her mind was so blissfully occupied and shit. Shit. Shit.

Emma bit into the side of her finger. The name on the tip of her tongue had almost been shouted into space and though everything was hazy, she knew there was a serious reason for her to be quiet.

If either of them had thought that a kiss might hold too much meaning, then what had just happened was a point of no return. What neither of them could deny, lying on their backs catching their breath, was that if they had an indication that this is what it would feel like? They would never have made it to the compass at the top of that beanstalk. When they glanced at the other, eyes still lidded and glazed, there was an unspoken understanding. Whether they wanted it or not, this was not going to be the last time.

It wasn't until she felt herself nodding off that Emma remembered where they were. Sitting up, she tapped Hook's arm to rouse him. "Hey."

He stirred, blinking.

"Can you get dressed real quick?" She whispered, leaning over him.

"Are we going somewhere?" He asked as if it were the last thing he wanted to do.

"Not far." She said and then she was turning on a light and searching for her clothes. As she found something of his she tossed it to him, moving with speed and efficiency. It was a wonder that Gold wasn't back yet. When Hook started buttoning up the vest Emma stalled him. "You just need to be decent." She whispered, suddenly feeling like she needed to be quiet. Once she had gathered all their things and made quick work of the bed, she went to the door and quickly checked that the coast was clear.

Hook was leaning over her shoulder as she stuck her head out and looked up and down the hall. "This isn't your room, is it?"

"Yeah? What gave it away?" She said with a faint laugh. Then she was ushering him out after her and letting the door click shut. She proceeded to the door adjacent and slid the right card in, waiting for the green light and then holding the handle open so she could keep the door from locking, but not opening it so she could whisper some quick instructions.

"Look, Henry's asleep and I swear if you wake him, I'm throwing you out."

"I see we're back to your undivided faith in me." He droned, still tired and a bit offended at that. He did just give her one of the best nights of her life, if the bite marks on her finger were any judge. She could afford him a little civility. He wasn't a barbarian.

Emma gave him a look that told him just what sort of mood she was in. And it wasn't a playful one.

"You have my word. I'll not wake the boy." He agreed quickly.

"Okay. Now, there's two beds in there. Supposed to be one for me and one for Henry."

"That's okay, love, I don't mind sharing." He smirked and then remembered she wasn't in the mood. "My apologies, continue."

"As for sleeping, you're going to get the bed to yourself. I'm not having my kid wake up to see me in bed with you…just…no, not happening. So I'll share with Henry. Got it?"

He gave her a stiff nod. "Loud and clear Miss Swan. May we actually enter the room now?"

She seemed wary of the idea, but finally she nodded. Stepping inside she held a finger to her lips as if he wasn't planning on being quiet. Tossing his jacket over a chair he walked past the occupied bed and pulled the covers over on the spare one. Emma fixed the blankets over Henry before crossing over to the side next to him. She threw up the covers and laid on her back, staring at the ceiling.

Hook had a similar idea, lying on his back with his hands resting on his chest. Emma waited to see if her presence disturbed Henry's sleep and when she deemed it safe, she twisted onto her side and looked out over the space in front of her, Hook's bed an end table's length away.

"Night." She whispered, snuggling into the pillow.

Hook glanced sideways and it was strange that he had spent so many nights alone and yet he found himself uncomfortable with it. "Good night, Emma."

She lay with her eyes open, frowning. Hook hadn't moved off his back and though he was tired he couldn't find the will to close his eyes. Finally he turned toward Emma again and met her eyes. Neither were particularly embracing sleep. Sighing, Hook got up and, moving deftly, slid the end table between the beds until it was forced into the mattress of the bed Emma and Henry were sharing. He had made sure to move slowly, raising almost no noise but the gentle swishing on the carpet. Emma sat up and hissed angrily.

"What're you doing?"

He put his finger over her lips and leaned into her face. "Shh. You'll wake Henry." Then he winked and went to the far side of his own bed, using the same care he gently pushed it as far as it would move. Thankfully, it had been on wheels and sliding it was no trouble. The space between the beds was infinitely lessened and he settled back into his spot before turning to a confused Emma.

"What's this?" She mouthed, motioning between the two beds.

Hook was just glad that their positions had Emma on his right. Without a word he extended his hand.

Emma looked at it, still perplexed.

Hook rolled his eyes and moved his hand up and down in front of her. Finally, she took it, still not understanding. As her fingers curled over his, he gave her a light smile before turning his head back into a comfortable position and closing his eyes. With the space between their beds so close, it wasn't an effort to let his hand hang in the open air.

Emma smiled into the pillow. Really? That was the plan? It was so…unbelievably cheesy that she couldn't help but blush. She felt like a kid at some sort of lame summer camp trying to cling to a teddy bear over the edge of the bed. I mean. Really. Just so he could hold her hand while he slept? It…he…

Emma cleared her throat, a few stray tears running down her cheeks. It was incredibly sweet. Possibly the most romantic thing a guy had ever done for her. When she thought about it, there really was no contest. She watched him drift off to sleep, feeling the difference in his fingers and glad that they still retained their hold on her. Finally shifting back into a comfortable position, Emma drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face, her son next to her, and lightly squeezing the first person to offer her comfort when she had trouble sleeping.

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**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it and if you made it through this whole chapter, this super long drawn out monster-y mess of a chapter then I applaud you. Thank you for reading. ^_^**

**Edit: This is now going under officially completed. I need to focus on my other stories and I wanted this to be counted as completed. **


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